


Bento Watta

by h_itoshi



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: All these pairs are very vague, Drunken crying about your ex, Gaya's a total slut, Good guy Miyata TM, Kinda Cracky, M/M, Miyata Appreciation Day, Public Groping, kind of, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 07:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20635628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Prompt: You wandered into the 24 hr 7Eleven I work at drunk at 2 am and now you're crying over a lettuce and comparing it to your ex and I have to ask, are you okay?





	Bento Watta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naminami973](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naminami973/gifts).

> For Miyata's birthday, we decided to write fic revolving around Miyata. And it came out a bit cracky but HEY. Look at the prompt.

Miyata jumps as he hears the unmistakable sound of the doors sliding open, shoving his manga aside more roughly than he intended as he clears his throat to call the mandatory greeting.

Nobody answers him, as usual, and he doesn't see anyone. But there's a suspicious sound of something falling down in an aisle and Miyata frowns.

It's not unusual for people to come into a 7 eleven drunk in the middle of the night, but usually they're loud and messy if that's the case.

Slowly he puts his manga down in a better and more hidden way before rising from behind the counter, thinking that he should probably check so it's not a shoplifter. They're not unusual, either. In a way, Miyata's surprised at the amount of people who walk into 7 eleven at three AM, but at the same time, this is central Tokyo. There's always too many people awake.

He passes the candy aisles, heading for the refrigerated fast food while carefully listening if there's any more noise, but he can't hear anything.

Until there's a sob.

He rounds the corner with cool desserts and pauses as he finds a man before him, holding a premade salad between both hands and looking down at it like it just broke his heart.

There's a slightly louder sob and the man mumbles something, and Miyata blinks. The man is his own age, dressed in baggy jeans, a plaid button down in different shades of denim, a cream knit sweater and an expensive looking necklace. He's tanned like he spent all summer at the beach, his lips plush and face flawlessly crafted, dark brown hair fluffy and a little messy but it looks intentional. He's very pretty.

“Uhm. Excuse me?” Miyata starts, but the man just raises his arm to wipe his nose on his sleeve while making a small, pained noise. “Are you alright?”

“No.” The man speaks, his small voice still managing to show off how husky it would be if he wasn't crying. “You know, Watta made the best salads? Yeah. He didn't even have to try, he'd come close to spinach and it would just magically be edible. I hate spinach.”

Miyata blinks a couple times, wondering how he's supposed to tackle the situation before him. “I'm... Sorry to hear that?”

“How could he dump me?” The man goes on, and for the first time, he looks up at Miyata, which makes it very clear this man is drunk because his eyes simmer with something more than tears. “Me!? Look at me! Nobody dumps me.”

If the man didn't sound so upset it would have been conceited, but now Miyata just feels an urge to laugh that he barely manages to stifle.

“I didn't even make out with Mitsu you know.” He goes on, attempting to sit down on the edge of the refrigerator but he doesn't manage and falls onto his butt instead. Miyata instinctively reaches out to try and help him, but the man barely seems to notice he ended up on the floor and not the edge he intended, the salad still in his hands. “He kissed _me _and I had nothing to do with it.”

“I... That sounds bad.” Miyata tries, wondering how he ended up in the middle of a gay cheating story like those he might read about in manga sometimes.

“It is bad. I miss Watta.” The man whines, then sobs and hugs the salad so tightly Miyata's afraid the plastic lid is going to pop off and spread salad all over the floor.

“Hey, hey, easy.” Miyata tries, kneeling next to the man on the floor when he gives up a wail and starts crying for real. “Easy. Come on, I'll get you some coffe, okay? What's your name?”

The man surprisingly calms down, sniffing a couple times and makes one or two pretty unattractive snoring sounds before speaking. “-jigaya.”

Miyata raises an eyebrow as he does his best to help the man back to standing. “Sorry?”

“Fujigaya.” He tries again, under his breath like it's unimportant, and Miyata registers it as his name.

“Okay. I'm Miyata. Let's get you some coffee. Do you like coffee?” Miyata asks, happy about the fact that Nika's started dragging him along to the gym lately because this man is way heavier than he looks.

“Yes.” Fujigaya says quietly with a tiny nod as Miyata manages to get him upright, even as he stumbles a lot before seeming somewhat stable, still hugging the salad close to his chest.

“Good. The coffee is over here, so come along.” Miyata coos, and Fujigaya follows him like a kindergardener as he heads back towards the counter.

“You're nice Miyata-kun.” Fujigaya says as Miyata brings him along behind the counter and sits him down on a low stool that one of his colleagues use to reach the higher shelves.

“Thank you. Now stay.” Miyata tells him firmly as he heads to get a can of warm coffee.

Fujigaya sits obediently on his stool when Miyata returns, his head just barely reaching over the counter edge as he's looking at the heavy liquor longingly.

“Here you go.” Miyata says, pointedly giving Fujigaya the can and purposely blocks the view of the booze.

“Thanks.” Fujigaya mumbles, the salad slipping from his hands onto the floor as he appears to forget it in favour of the coffee. His motor control isn't perfect but he manages to get the can open on his own and takes a sip.

“Do you live nearby?” Miyata asks, wondering if he should get Fujigaya a taxi or what the best approach would be to get him out of here.

“I don't think so.” Fujigaya says, then blinks up at Miyata in panic as he seems to realize what he just said. “Am I lost?!”

“No no, you're not lost.” Miyata assures, thinking as he has many times before that drunk people are like small children. Except dumber. Fujigaya visibly relaxes and Miyata goes on. “Were you out with someone tonight? Friends?”

“No. Just Tama and he's drunk.” Fujigaya pouts. “He's hopeless, can't handle tequila at all.”

Miyata watches the man for a moment, thinking hard about what to do if he doesn't even know where he lives. He resists the urge to pick up the premade salad box standing on its side; he has a feeling it might upset Fujigaya even more.

“Is there someone I should call for you? Someone that could pick you up?” He asks instead, and Fujigaya whines against the metal of the coffee can, creating a strange echoing sound.

“No.” He protests, but then slips a hand in his pocket and reaches his cell phone out for Miyata.

Miyata resists the urge to smile at the obvious contradiction but accepts the newest iPhone model handed to him. He wonders if this guy is rich.

The phone case is black leather with a subtle leopard print, and a small cluster of colourful Disney charms hang from the end, the lockscreen a group photo of happy people at the beach.

“This is locked. Will you let me in?” Miyata asks gently, holding the phone out for Fujigaya, who just looks at it for a moment before it unlocks itself, and it takes Miyata a few seconds to remember that face-ID is a thing.

A picture of a poodle with a tiny red bow faces him instead, cluttered with social media apps with little notifications on them, and Miyata's pretty sure there should be _someone_ in here that could pick Fujigaya up. Or at least say where he lives.

“Who should I call?” Miyata asks, but Fujigaya just shrugs and sips more coffee, cradling the can between his hands.

“I don't wanna go home, can't I stay here with you?” He asks hopefully, blinking up at Miyata with big eyes and Miyata's tempted to say yes because working night shift is so lonely anyway. But he can't.

“Sorry, no. You can come back some other time when you're sober.” Miyata tells him, busy opening the phone app and finding Fujigaya's call list. The by far most called and calling number is someone called “Fumi”, so Miyata draws a breath and presses the name, hoping she picks up.

“Wait no don't call.” Fujigaya whines, but he doesn't seem very invested in his own protest.

“It's for your own good.” Miyata says, waiting nervously as the signals pass.

Then there's a click at the other end, a second of silence before a very male, sleepy voice speaks. “Gaya I swear to god I'll decapitate you.”

“Hi. Are you a friend of Fujigaya's?” Miyata says, smiling nervously at the threat that sounds very believable.

“Oh god what's he done now? Who's this?” The voice asks, sounding a little more awake.

“This is Miyata, I work at 7 eleven.” Miyata says, and the voice sighs deeply. “I think Fujigaya might need some help getting home from here, he doesn't seem to know where he lives.”

“Well fuck.” The voice sighs. “Yeah I'll come get him, where is it?”

Miyata tells the address and the voice groans, loudly wondering what the hell Fujigaya's doing there but then says that he'll be there in around 40 minutes. Miyata says thank you and hangs up, Fujigaya watching him with wide eyes.

“Was Kawai mad?” He asks nervously, and Miyata can't keep from smiling as he puts Fujigaya's phone in his own pocket for safekeeping.

“Yes, but he said he'll come pick you up. Is he a good friend?” He asks.

“Yes. When he doesn't tell me I'm an idiot.” Fujigaya mumbles, then draws a shaky breath like he just reminded himself of what an idiot he is.

“Hey, easy there. No more crying.” Miyata warns, but Fujigaya just moans something about being an idiot and Miyata sighs. “Fine, tell me what happened.”

Not like he's got anything better to do than listen to Fujigaya's drunken whining.

“Watta dumped me!” Fujigaya exclaims, then raises the coffee can to his lips like he's drinking a shot, but ends up coughing when he realizes that the coffee's too hot to down like tequila. “Because he thinks I cheated on him with Mitsu. I didn't though, I didn't, _he_ kissed _me_! I only liked it a little bit.”

“But you love this Watta guy or...?” Miyata asks, trying to get some kind of chronology in the story.

“I love him! At least more than Mitsu.” Fujigaya nods. “I mean, Watta really loves me, and he gets me and he cooks and he's so nice, you know? Mitsu's just... hot.”

“So you don't love Mitsu?” Miyata tries, silently wondering how this story would sound if Fujigaya was sober.

“No! He's a dick. He teases me and he says my hair looks dumb and he's lazy and his face is so stupid. And pouty. And he's short. And he's got a great ass and he's always been a really good kisser and has this body that's just...” Fujigaya trails off and looks a little dreamy for a moment, before he seems to remember what he was talking about, frowning. “Mitsu's a dick and I hate him.”

“... You kissed him more than once?” Miyata raises his eyebrows, and Fujigaya's freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

“No! I mean, just in high school but that's so long ago right? And then maybe some more time but that was before Watta and I started dating! There's nothing between us!” He tries to defend himself, waving the coffee can around and Miyata's just grateful it appears to be mostly empty by now.

“Well, as a complete outsider, it sure sounds like there's something between you two.” Miyata tells him pointedly, figuring he doesn't need to use the silk gloves with Fujigaya since he doesn't even know this man.

“There's not!” Fujigaya protests, stomping his foot and it looks pretty dumb when he's sitting so far down. “He just came onto me all of a sudden at this party kissing me and it's not like I liked it, just that Watta's _never_ kissed me like that and I just... It's impolite not to respond you know?”

Miyata looks down at Fujigaya for a long moment, then opens his mouth to speak, but immediately cuts himself off as he sees the door slide open for two men in suits.

He instinctively sets a hand on Fujigaya's head and shoves him down out of sight as he calls his greeting, then leans down to hiss at Fujigaya to be quiet. It wouldn't look good if there was a drunk man behind the counter.

Fujigaya makes an offended little noise and climbs back to sitting after he fell off the tiny stool, but he doesn't vocally protest as he settles right under the counter in front of Miyata.

The two men talk quietly together, seeming like they missed the last train and need breakfast for work. It's not unusual, Miyata's just happy they don't seem drunk, unlike most salarymen at this hour.

He jumps as there's a touch to his thigh, glaring down at Fujigaya busy poking his own phone in Miyata's pocket like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. He reaches down to slap Fujigaya's fingers away when the men approach the register, and he shifts focus entirely to smile at them.

They put down a collection of coffee, rehydration drinks, bread and onigiri on the counter and Miyata starts scanning them, reaching for a bag at the same time and tries to ignore Fujigaya's fingers on his leg.

“Some cigarettes too.” One of the men, the older one, speaks, and Miyata's grateful for the opportunity to leave Fujigaya's curious fingers and fetch the cigarette pack the man asks for.

At least he thought he was.

“That'll be 21- oh. Uhm, 2154 yen please.” He manages, firmly looking down at the counter as he tries to will down his flaring blush because Fujigaya's fingers returned, and not to his phone.

The men seem to take forever to dig up the coins from their pockets, and Miyata stares at the little money tray while trying to shift away and still not look like there's someone fondling his dick under the counter.

Finally, they decide to just give him a five instead of looking for 1 yen coins, and Miyata has never been quicker to count the change and reach the bag over, for once not calling a goodbye because he doesn't trust his voice.

The second the men turn their back to him he reaches down and slaps Fujigaya's hand away, waiting for the men to _get out _so he can lecture Fujigaya on boundaries, but ends up gasping way too loudly as he suddenly feels breath against the start of an erection in his pants.

“What are you doing!?” Miyata calls as he jumps back, the panic obvious in his voice as he backs as far away from Fujigaya as he possibly can, which is about one metre.

Fujigaya blinks up innocently at him, like he didn't just press his face against Miyata's crotch.

“You have a big dick.” He says shamelessly, like he's just stating facts, and Miyata's already red face seems to get even hotter, to the point where he can feel his pulse in his neck.

“What!?” His voice is a little squeaky and he's so happy nobody else can see or hear him right now.

“You do. Own it.” Fujigaya says, like he's talking about Miyata's hair colour or something equally unimportant.

“I... What... You! You can't just touch people like that, that's groping!” Miyata tells him, but he's not entirely sure if he's all upset anymore.

Fujigaya's eyes widen in surprise and he seems to take in what Miyata's saying. “Oh god. I'm so sorry! I was just. Curious?” He tries, and he does seem very full of regret.

“I...” Miyata starts, but then catches himself right on the verge of saying thank you because he shouldn't be thanking someone for groping him in public, no matter how well willing. “You're a bit of a slut, aren't you?”

“Yes.” Fujigaya whines, his head thumping back against the box of plastic bags, back to looking upset. “It's a curse.”

And Miyata can't help actually laughing, because that's just so _dumb_.

“You're pretty when you smile.” Fujigaya tells him, matching with a smile of his own and his face seems to light up, his gorgeous level suddenly increasing tenfold and Miyata suddenly understands why Fujigaya seems to be surrounded by boys.

“So are you. But you still can't touch people without consent.” Miyata lectures, and Fujigaya's smile falters immediately.

“I'm sorry. ... Can I touch your dick?” He asks carefully, and Miyata stares at him. “Just to thank you for helping me! I'll make you feel good, I promise!”

Miyata has nothing to say to that, trying to figure out if repaying anyone in sexual favours counts as prostitution or not, but his train of thought is cut off as the sliding doors open once again.

A single man steps inside this time, wearing sweatpants and a trenchcoat and his hair all over the place, a sour expression on his face.

Miyata's got a hand on Fujigaya's head, ready to shove him down, but the man immediately looks at him and raises his eyebrows.

“Really? You got him on his knees that quickly?” The man asks, and Miyata looks down to realize what it looks like, and honestly almost was, then quickly withdraws his hand as Fujigaya lights up.

“Fumi-chan!” He calls, sounding happier than he's been all night as he starts trying to climb back into standing.

“Don't you Fumi-chan me, you useless whore.” The man tells him firmly and Fujigaya's smile fades once again as the man turns to Miyata. “Hi, Kawai Fumito, I'm this loser's best friend.”

“Nice to meet you.” Miyata nods, hoping that his blush isn't too obvious anymore.

“Has he been bothering you a lot?” Kawai asks, giving Fujigaya a long, dejected look as Fujigaya make an attempt to climb over the counter to get to him but Miyata grabs the back of his collar to stop him.

“Not too bad. Not many customers at this hour.” Miyata says sheepishly, starting to lead Fujigaya to the edge of the counter so he can walk around instead.

“Watta!” Fujigaya yells as they pass the salad on the floor, and Miyata obediently picks up the salad and hands it to him before pushing him the last few steps to Kawai's extended arm.

“Really dude, a salad?” Kawai asks, rolling his eyes and brings Fujigaya along back to the register on the right side of the counter.

“Watta dumped me.” Fujigaya moans, hiding his face against Kawai's shoulder as Kawai shoves his hand into different pockets on Fujigaya's clothing until he finds Fujigaya's wallet.

“Yes I know, and you deserve it after what you did. Idiot. Didn't I tell you to stay away from Kitayama, huh?” Kawai lectures, and Fujigaya's whine is muffled by Kawai's shoulder.

Miyata watches carefully, then remembers Fujigaya's phone and hauls it out of his pocket and puts it on the counter next to the register.

“Oh great. How much does he owe you?” Kawai asks, accepting the phone and pointedly puts it in his own pocket even as Fujigaya half heartedly reaches out for it.

“Uhm, well there's the salad and a coffee, so, if I could just scan-?” Miyata starts, but Kawai shakes his head and pulls out a 5000 yen note from Fujigaya's wallet.

“Take this, keep the rest. You probably deserve more.” Kawai says as Miyata tries to protest. “Thanks for being so helpful.”

“No problem.” Miyata shrugs, and he almost feels a little sad to see Fujigaya go.

“Hey Fumi-chan, that's Miyata.” Fujigaya says, clinging to Kawai's shoulder for support, the salad safely in hand. “He's got a big dick.”

Miyata flushes red but Kawai doesn't seem to listen.

“Yeah I can tell.” He says impatiently, then sends Miyata an apologetic look before starting to drag Fujigaya along outside while reprimanding him about adult behaviour.

The doors slide shut after them, and Miyata picks up the empty coffee can from the floor, reluctantly thinking that the rest of his shift is going to be very boring without Fujigaya.

~*~

It's almost a week later when Miyata's unpacking soft drinks into the refrigerator and suddenly feels a presence very close to him, along with a vaguely familiar scent.

He turns around and finds himself just staring as Fujigaya faces him, definitely sober this time. He's wearing the same style of clothes, only a black leather jacket over the marine knit shirt this time, and another expensive looking necklace. He's smiling sheepishly and his eyes are clear and dark like the night sky.

“Hi.” He says, no trace of whining in his voice.

“Hey there.” Miyata replies, carefully putting the apple water down and wipes his hands on his pants just in case.

“I've been looking for you.” Fujigaya says, and Miyata raises an eyebrow, because he didn't expect that.

“Oh? Well, here I am?” He says, the question obvious in his tone and he doesn't know why he's so nervous.

“I just wanted to apologize.” Fujigaya says, and he looks about as awkward as Miyata feels. “I have never been that drunk and I feel terrible.”

“Don't worry about it, you weren't too annoying.” Miyata smiles, and Fujigaya smiles back, seeming to light up the entire store.

“Really?” Fujigaya says sceptically, but he doesn't seem to really want an answer. “Anyway, I thought. Maybe I could buy you coffee to make up for it? Only if you want. No ulterior motives, I promise, I don't need more love trouble.”

Miyata snorts an unattractive laugh at the last part, and Fujigaya looks hopeful.

“Sure. I like coffee.” Miyata shrugs, because he's very curious about who Fujigaya is when he's not trashed.

“Yay!” Fujigaya smiles, seeming relieved as he holds out a little note with a phone number on it. “But you don't have a boyfriend do you? Because I have this friend-”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Miyata hurries to stop him, feeling his cheeks flush and he hopes none of his colleagues heard that. “Why do you even think-”

Fujigaya shrugs, a smug smile on his lips as he watches Miyata's blush, but his tone is innocent. “Don't worry. I saw the manga you were reading. What did you think?”

Then he turns to leave, sending a tiny smile over his shoulder and Miyata can't get a word out.

He's already doubting if Fujigaya is a person he should be hanging out with, but he can't deny he's very curious to try.


End file.
